The Rifle
by Tango Fox
Summary: Jim/Seb prompt fic. Based on the tumblr ask: 'Jim wants a change'


The Rifle

Jim nudged his head against Seb's shoulder in an attempt to get him to wake up. Instead of waking up however, the large man shifted in his sleep, moving his arm, and pinning Jim to his chest. For a few moments, Jim nestled himself against Seb's skin, allowing himself to feel protected and safe. Most people would think it was ridiculously dangerous to be in love with the only man capable of taking you down. Jim saw it as an advantage. After two years now, he knew every little tiny detail about Sebastian Moran, what he had done in the past, what his little quirks meant, what mood he was in. He knew his chief of staff inside out and to him that was an advantage, he knew it meant that there was only one way Moran was leaving his side, and that was in a body bag. Together they had become an unstoppable force, their skills matched perfectly, and their empire expanded out further than Jim had even imagined. To begin with, Jim had never seen them as being more than Boss and Employee. But as things progressed, Jim realised how clever Moran actually was, and how much more they could achieve when Jim let him in.

Bored of lying in his arms, Seb turned his head and sank his teeth deep into Seb's pec. It wasn't the first time Jim had woke him up like this, and it wasn't the first time Seb had woken up howling in pain. Instinctively he rolled over on top of Jim and pinned him down by his wrists, glaring at him. Jim only smirked back, that challenging smirk that always got Seb so riled up.

"I've told you not to bite me." Snarled Seb, his face inches from Jims.

"And when do I ever do as my told?"

Seb replied by kissing him harshly, biting his lip and drawing blood as his did so. When the kiss began to soften, Jim knew he was forgiven. He always was. Seb let go of Jim's wrists as he pulled away from the kiss, rolling back onto his back, and taking Jim with him.

"Bored?" he asked, assuming that's why Jim had woke him up.

"Sort of," he nodded, tracing kisses on Seb's neck. "I woke up; I've just been laid on you, thinking"

Seb leant his head back and chuckled. "You thinking, is always dangerous for someone else. What's been on your mind then?"

He sat up grinning. He has a small glint in his eyes, another thing Seb often saw as a sign of danger. "I want you to teach me how to use your rifle."

"Are you kidding me? That thing is priceless and you've never shot a sniper rifle before! Absolutely not."

Jim looked up and glared at him. "That rifle was a gift from me. If I want to use it I can."

He glared a bit longer and then switched back to being 'boyfriend' Jim, his eyes twinkling and his voice dripping with honey.

"Fine," he sighed. "I'll teach you later."

Jim started to nip at Seb's neck with his canines, growling possessively.

"No. Now."

Jim stood in the living room awkwardly holding the rifle while Seb tried to suppress his giggles.

"What?" snapped Jim, turning around to glare at him.

Seb walked over and kissed him on the head, taking the rifle out of his hands.

"Lay down on your stomach love."

Jim glared but complied, laying flat on his stomach, resting on his elbows. Seb carried the gun in one hand and lay on top of Jim, his chin resting on the Irish mans head. He placed the gun in Jim's hands and moved his arms and body so he lay correctly. He lifted his weight slightly off Jim's body, and leant down to his ear.

"Look down the scope," he whispered. "Aim at the target on the wall, and fire."

He watched Jims movements, saw his finger twitch on the trigger before he has even pulled it. As soon as the shot fired he wrapped his arms tightly around Jim to absorb some of the kick. Breathing heavily, Jim set this rifle down and swivelled in Seb's arms so he now lay on his back. Seb still held him tightly in his arms. Jim's eyes were wide and shocked, and his whole body shook.

"Are you alright?"

Slowly, the wicked and dangerous smile creeped onto Jim Moriarty's face. He reached out and grabbed Sebastian's hair, pulling them closer so their noses were touching.

"God Seb," he breathed. "We are going to have some fun!"

Seb answered his remark with a hungry kiss, letting his hands wander all over Jim's body, wondering how he was so in love with such a psychopath.

Sebastian Moran stood in darkness, lurking in the shadows. In the distance stood a man in a suit, talking on his phone and smoking a cigarette. On the floor in front of him lay Jim Moriarty, holding Seb's prized rifle with ease. He lay in a perfectly dapper Westwood suit, on top of a cashmere blanket, which in turn was on top of a piece of tarpaulin. It made stashing things away terribly difficult, but Jim insisted on nothing else.

This was the fourth time Sebastian has let him take care of a hit. They were Jim's hits anyway, so he couldn't have taken control even if he wanted to. He found Jim handling his rifle fascinatingly beautiful. He had been surprised at how accurate Jim was with his shots. He didn't have Seb's talent for hitting the perfect shot, but he always made sure the hit never came out alive. Seb was an efficient sniper, he always put a bullet between the eyes, and it was how he had always done it. Jim however, aimed for the heart, and Seb swore that sometimes he just missed, so the hit would definitely die, but bleed out slowly.

Seb smiled as he heard Jims breathing slow to a stop, and watched as the rifle fired right across the street, and into the man's heart. He watched as Jim calmly carried on looking down the scope, watching his victim bleed out. Seb knew exactly why Jim liked this. It was bloodshed from a distance. It was a way for Jim to get his violent kicks and keep those pretty hands of his clean.

Seb took a cigarette out of his pocket and lit up.

"Come on boss," he said. "Better go before the police catch you."

Jim laughed a little too loudly and started to pack up.

"Please dear. As if anybody could ever catch _me_."


End file.
